Chronicles Of A Titan
by Mason Tims
Summary: The story of a Titan who has seen his world destroyed, and has to either find a place in the new one, or be consumed by the war between the light and dark. The friends who help him, the enemies that fight him, and the ghosts that haunt him.
1. Prologue

The Chronicles of a Titan

Prologue: In the Dark

A man slept, drifting in a place undefinable, in dark so deep there was not even the concept of light. Flashes of memory played through his mind, lightning bolts in the blackness.

His life went through his mind, one memory at a time. Holding his baby sister. Visiting his mother's headstone. His father's re-wedding. His graduation, and his enlistment into SRDC. He remembered his training at the military and exploration academy, learning how to fight, fire weapons, pilot ships, and set up exploration equipment. He remembered the first time that he was sent to Mars, and ended up fighting rogue scientists, the first time he had watched a friend die, the first time he had killed.

All of these were remembered in a strangely detached, unemotional way, as if they were someone else's memories. However, there was one that constantly came up, and this one, he did feel for.

It was the day he died.

He had been with his family at the time. His little sister, step-mom, dad, and a few cousins, flying from New York to London to Moscow in their small family shuttle that his parents had just bought. They had picked him up in Ohio from the Orbital Space Exploration Center, or OSEC to celebrate him coming back from a tour on Venus, and he was happily resting in the back seat, his little sister curled up next to him, head on his chest. He talked quietly with his parents about nothing in particular as they passed over the mega city of New York, which encompassed most of the old U.S. East coast. He caught the radio talking about the new nano tech that was supposed to change the world, and listened with interest. Apparently, it had already completely rebuilt Chernobyl from the irradiated ruins it had been, making it a very high tech and thriving city. Maybe it would change the world again..

Everything was peaceful, thanks to the Traveler. He hadn't been born yet, of course, but its arrival was well recorded. When it arrived, there of course had been fear and apprehension. The U.N. had even discussed possible pre-emptive measures against any aggression from the giant orb that now dominated the sky. Of course, as soon as the Traveler's gifts were shown, things changed drastically. Mankind spread like wildfire across the system, bringing peace and civilization to the stars. No longer were there wars for resources, shelter, or ideology. In many places, religions sprouted up claiming the Traveler as their god, along with many established religions claiming that the Traveler was the second coming of their own respective deity. Honestly, they had a good point. Human life spans tripling, planets being terraformed, the ecosystem recovering, it all seemed like the work of a God. It was truly an age of miracles. A life that ancient people would have called heaven.

And no one knew it was fleeting. The man certainly didn't.

He still remembered when he noticed something out of the ordinary. It was noon, according to their clocks, and yet it was as dark as a moonless night out. Wondering what was up, he rolled back the sun roof over his seat to see if there was a solar eclipse. What he saw was entirely different. The sky was black. Not cloudy, but as black as a void of dark matter. So black that it seemed like a wall between them and the sky. Of course he yelled, panicked, just like everyone else in the car. After a moment, he started to get alerts in his hand implant. Touching his gloved palm, a holographic display popped up, showing the darkness on a news feed. It was from a crowded city, he couldn't remember which, and everywhere the camera turned, people were staring with awe and fear. And then the feed went dead.

Looking up, he was trying to calm his siblings down while his father took the car out of auto pilot, just to be safe. After a few minutes of flying, things seemed to calm down, and his sister relaxed. His brother had calmed a few minutes before, and was back to playing holo games. When he looked past him to his cousins' car, he saw that they were looking back with fear mixed with confusion. He gave them a thumbs up, trying to make them relax, and it seemed to do the trick. He saw a few smiles, and a small bit of relief.

In the next instant, the cockpit of their shuttle exploded in a fireball. In that single moment, he could remember feeling so many different things; shock, fear, anger, sadness, confusion. In the next, when he saw the shuttle veering towards them, fear ruled. The shuttle impacted theirs on the left side, where his brother and father were.

He blinked.

When he opened his eyes, the seat where his brother had been was gone, along with that side of the shuttle. His father's seat was gone as well, leaving only ragged metal in its place. The engines were out, and they were in freefall. His step mother tried to reach the controls, and managed to level them out slightly. Instead of a nose dive, they instead hit the ground on the bottom of the front of the shuttle. It skidded through the trees, tumbling and smashing through everything in its path. At one point, the windshield was blasted out by a tree, and debris flew into the shuttle. He had his eyes closed and was over his sister, protecting her, or at least trying to.

After a full minute, the shuttle slammed one final time, coming to rest beside an old Russian highway. After a few moments, he opened his eyes. His step mother was gone, obliterated by the force of the impact and the trees and debris. He could see the blood actually seeping through her seat, and he didn't kid himself. Turning to his sister, he looked into her eyes, and realized that something was terribly wrong. They were staring, unblinking, past him. He realized she wasn't breathing. Looking, he saw that a branch was sticking out of her abdomen, where her heart had been. It was peculiar, in a strange way. He didn't feel sad, or angry. Sitting there in the car, staring at his sister, he just felt empty and alone. His entire family, and with them everything that he had ever cared about, was now gone. Ripped away in a minute and a half. He lifted his hand and shut her eyes. He noticed blood on his hand. Looking down, he saw that the branch that had killed his sister had pierced him as well, just above his belly button and below his heart.

He wasn't afraid. He was accepting. He wanted to be with his family, and didn't want to live without them. With that in mind, he hugged his sister tight, sliding the branch deeper into himself. He felt no pain, perhaps as a last blessing.

And there, while he held his sister tightly, he shut his eyes and waited for death. Eventually, he heard commotion on the outside of the car, and looked to see feet that could only be described as alien. Suddenly, the door was ripped away, revealing said alien in all of its disgusting glory. It was massive, with some sort of brown plating covering its body and iridescent green eyes.

They looked at each other for a moment, the man's mind fogging all the time. Somewhere, he made the connection that the thing must have been responsible for everything that had happened. As his vision clouded, he watched the alien lift its sword, prepared to strike, until it instead turned and strode away, the last image in his mind.

And so it went, again and again. Always that memory and others from his life. But that memory was the one that came up most. It shattered his peace, his slumber in the dark, and he hated it. He didn't know if he was in hell or not, but he could have believed it so.

He had no measure of time, only the memories that repeated, over and over again. And so, when something new happened, it was astounding. A bright white glow pierced his blackness, interrupting that memory. Without thinking, he moved towards it. He didn't know if he swam, ran or flew, and didn't care. He just moved towards it. Towards a light that seemed to be coming towards him as well. And when it reached him, he embraced it, ready for what came next.

And then he woke up.


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Shell Shock

It was strange. He had been trapped in the void so long, he had forgotten what the sensation of touch was like. The first thing he felt was the bitter cold wind. Then, the granules of dirt and the roughness of blades of grass underneath his fingertips. As he lay there, wondering if he was dead and coming back to life or alive and dying, a cold breeze of wind drifted over his body, causing him to inhale. When he did, his body realized that it hadn't breathed in far too long, and he started gasping, gulping air as if he had just been drowning. The frigid air scoured the back of his throat, and he could taste the blood in it, causing him to cough.

The pain brought the realization that he was alive.

There was no dramatic gasp. No shocked recollection, as he had already remembered everything that had led to his death. Instead, he slowly sat back on his knees, looking at the world around him. Or looking at the scarred, shattered remains of it. Everywhere he looked was destruction. Ships ripped apart, buildings decayed and destroyed to their foundations, skeletons littering the ground.

The thought came that maybe he was indeed actually dead, and he was in hell.

"It worked…" He heard a disembodied voice say from above him. Looking up, he saw a strange geometric oddity floating above him, seemingly looking down at him. He jumped slightly when it spoke. "You're alive!"

The man stood in confusion as the thing continued.

"You don't know how long I've been looking for you!" It said, buzzing excitedly before explaining a bit more. "I'm a ghost. Well, technically, I'm your ghost. And you…"

The ghost paused here, seemingly realizing the obvious, then said, "Well, you've been dead for a long time, so you are going to see a lot of things you aren't going to understand."

Suddenly, the man heard an animal bellow in the distance, and snapped his head towards the sound, instantly fearful. The ghost seemed to hear it as well, and said quickly, "This is Fallen territory. We aren't safe here. We have to get to the city!"

In a blink, the ghost was gone, or so the man thought, until he heard its voice come from speakers next to his ears, alerting him that he was now clothed in a strange sort of dull white armor, with a thin helmet. "Guardian, I'm still with you. We won't survive in the open like this, we have to get inside the wall!"

His brain was on autopilot as he rose unsteadily to his feet. Looking around, he saw an icon appear in front of him, and registered it as his ghost telling him where to go. Namely, a massive, rusted metal wall that stretched as far as he could see on either side and was easily three hundred feet tall. He stumbled forward, maneuvering around cars and over shredded metal and destroyed earth. His mind started to work as he moved, and questions came: What happened, where was he, and above all, who was hunting him?

As he reached the base of the massive wall in front of him, he saw the ghost had led him to a small entrance in the aged and decrepit metal, next to the tunnel the cars must have been trying to go through. As he scrambled up the stairs, he turned his head back for just a second, and caught a glimpse of something. Some creature that he could not identify, but seemed familiar. Bipedal, four arms, and with bleached armor. He didn't wait to study it more as he crawled up the stairs as fast as he could.

Moving into the building, he moved up the stairs as fast as he could, which wasn't as fast as he would have liked. Something with his muscles felt off. He felt weak, and sluggish, and uncoordinated, like a newborn horse. If he could have thought, he would have questioned why. But his mind wasn't there yet, instead focusing on putting one foot in front of the other.

As he made it up the stairs and across a catwalk, he stopped halfway, catching his breath for a moment. As he did, he heard what sounded like a cross between the footsteps of a human and the skittering of an insect from the floor above.

"They're right above us…" The ghost said from nowhere. That was all it took to get him back on the move. The small rest helped him get his bearings, and he could tell his legs were working better. As he moved, his surroundings became darker and darker, until all he could see was black. Suddenly, he ran into a railing, knocking the wind out of himself.

"Careful." The ghost said, popping out from his armor, and maybe his head, and illuminating the area. "Fallen thrive in the dark. We won't. We need more light. I'll see what I can do."

And with that the little orb took off. The man watched him float away, acutely aware of the noises from the darkness. As he watched it disappear behind a pillar, he could hear it say, "Another one of those hardened military systems, and a few centuries of entropy working against us."

 _A few centuries?_ The man thought to himself as he heard a generator come to life, and saw lights start coming on.

And saw about twenty aliens looking at him. With guns.

"They're coming for us!" The Ghost yelled as the man turned and ran after the floating orb. After a second, he saw the ghost send out a pulse of light, and it yelled triumphantly, "I found a rifle! Grab it!"

As soon as he saw the icon pop up on his screen, the man sprinted to it, seeing an open and rusted box. Inside was an assault rifle. Picking it up, he remembered that it was the common rifle assigned to SRDC, the Khvostov, a rifle based on the platform of older models that had been created by the United States, before its reformation. He had used it before. It was the first thing so far that made sense to him as he picked it up. The weight, the ergonomics, it was all familiar to him. It was home to him.

"I hope you know how to use that thing." The ghost said as it went back into his helmet. He started moving, checking the clip and pulling the charging handle, racking a round into the chamber.

He knew how to use it.

As he rounded the next corner, he saw a shadow move in front of him, at the end of the hallway.

"Watch for movement on the tracker." The ghost said, popping up a small motion tracker on the upper left corner of his visor. On the lower left, he saw his ammo count for his rifle and a percentage that he assumed were his shields. Useful.

As he stalked through the corridor, his legs now working so much better than they had only minutes before, the tracker came alive with red. As he turned he saw it. A creature. Bipedal, two arms, hairy, wielding a pistol.

He didn't even need to think as he opened fire, sending a burst of rifle shots into the creature's throat. As it fell to the floor, clutching at the remnants of its neck, he stalked over to it, wanting to inspect his enemy. It was a strange, insectoid looking being, and while it did have a Mohawk on its head, the rest of its body seemed to either be shaved or covered in small hairs, like a spider. He picked up the pistol, turning it over in his hands before throwing it away, deciding that it was useless to him. It wasn't made for human hands, and he couldn't get a reliable grip on it.

As he looked it over more, be it rustiness or a side effect of whatever had brought him back to life, he failed to notice the other creature on the wall beside him until it leaped off, sucker punching him. As he hit the ground, years of training and reflexes returned to him in an instant as he rolled with the impact, popping back onto his feet and firing. The creature, this one four armed, and with strange white armor charged him, the bullets bouncing off its plate defenses. As it collided with him, two of its arms grabbed at him, wrestling for the rifle. Meanwhile, its two lower ones started to smash into his sides, knocking the air away and pummeling his new ribs. He tasted blood in his mouth, and knew that he was hurt, badly. After a moment, it picked him up with all of its arms and smashed him into a wall, smacking the back of his head into it. Though he did have the helmet on, it still rattled his brain, confusing him and giving him a sense of vertigo, and he dropped his rifle. As the alien reached for a knife with one of its arms, the man used the opening to punch the creature in its exposed throat, desperately trying to create space. It was no ordinary punch, however, as he felt his fist seemingly explode with electricity as it collided with the monster, and it was sent a good ten feet backwards and onto the ground. Knowing he needed to end the fight quickly, due to his own exhaustion and injuries, he leapt onto the creature for all he was worth, knocking the blade out of its hands. As they struggled on the ground, he managed to get on top of the creature. Immediately, he punched it again, and again the same electrical charge exploded from his fist, bouncing the back of the creature's head off the stone. With that opening, he grabbed his rifle next to him, put the barrel to the creature's face plate, and pulled the trigger.

The armor did nothing to protect it from that range.

He crawled off the creature, resting on his hands and knees, breathing heavily. He coughed a few times, and saw splatters of blood appear on the inside of his visor, the color of coffee beans. Internal bleeding. Not good.

"Here, let me help." He heard the Ghost say from inside his helmet. If a computer could sound concerned, it did. Immediately, however, he felt a warm, comforting feeling surrounding his bruised and broken ribs, and soon the pain was dulled. "There, you should be back to normal in a few minutes, but we don't have that long. You need to get moving!"

He got to his feet shakily and started to stumble forward, the pain still intense when he stopped, seeing the alien's knife lying on the ground. Curious, he picked up the creature's blade; He guessed it was about a foot and a half long, with a thick wavy blade made for ripping through armor and skin. Suddenly, a sheath appeared on his left boot. Not questioning it, he slid the knife home, reloaded his rifle, and set off again, a little bit more steadily.

As he moved on, he was ambushed by more of the aliens, but these ones had guns. As he took cover, years of training started coming back to him. Using the boxes and support beams, he got into his rhythm; Fire, move, cover, fire, move. His aim was steadier than before, and he forced himself to slow down, taking only the necessary shots. The smaller aliens were not too difficult to kill, as their weapons were slow firing and their armor was more exposed. The larger aliens posed more of a problem to him, as their weapons were much stronger, seemed to be firing liquid plasma, not to mention their armor was thicker. The only way he could penetrate it was to practically touch them. However, they did have openings, which he exploited to injure them. More than once, he had to finish them off with his new knife.

With them dealt with, he moved on, the pain in his ribs forgotten about. As he crossed a bridge, now paranoid of every shadow, he caught something out of the corner of his eye: A large, unopened munitions crate.

He almost didn't go to it, fearing a trap. However, after making sure the tracker was clear, and giving the entire area a look, curiosity got the better of him. Kneeling down in front of the chest, he looked at the front and sides, ensuring that there were no tripwires. He then put his hand on the scanner and felt a heat come through his glove as it scanned his biometrics. After a moment, he heard the locks disengage, and the lid popped open, revealing some magazines for his rifle, and a small, rectangle box. Taking the ammunition in his hand, he was about to ask the ghost to make him a pouch when it disappeared from his hand.

"I'm storing it inside me." The ghost said matter-of-factly. "When you need it, I'll synthesize it for you."

The man accepted the answer, as that was very low on his list of questions at the moment. After the ghost synthesized the rest of the ammunition, he reached in and pulled out the box. Unclipping the clasps, he opened it to find a very large revolver. Picking it up, he was surprised how big it was: easily the length of his forearm, the monster felt like it weighed a good 5 pounds, with a massive barrel and gunmetal grey finish, it looked like it meant business. The thing was a cannon.

"That's a… Big gun. You could magnetize it to your leg, probably." He heard the ghost say from his helmet. He had to agree, but he figured that the best way to put down big aliens was with big bullets.

Moving forward with his rifle, he jumped down a set of stairs, and nearly barreled into some strange lasers. He didn't need the ghost to tell him that they were trip mines, and he slowly moved over them, not breaking the beams. As he moved forward, the motion tracker lit up, and he knew that he had stepped into a trap. Immediately, he saw one of the smaller, hairy aliens drop down from the pipes in front of him, with two more stepping out from the pipes on the sides of the hallway.

However, the biggest surprise came when, as he was lifting his rifle, he was grabbed by his ankles and swept off his feet. Looking down, he caught the sight of the alien who had grabbed him. As he heard the other aliens begin to open fire, he started kicking the monster, trying to force it off of him. However, as he looked at the coming aliens, he saw that more lasers had appeared, giving him an idea. Instead of kicking, he rolled back, lifting the alien out of the hole and sending it to the floor. Immediately he was on his feet, and before the alien could do anything, he kicked it in the head, picked it up, and threw it for all he was worth into the mines between him and the other aliens.

The explosion rocked the hallway, causing the aliens to take cover and sending him rolling into a wall. Getting to his feet, he was immediately under fire from the aliens, who were now in cover. He did the best he could to shoot back, but he was too exposed, with no cover. But that's when he remembered something that he had been told once; when you are in the shit, don't stay there. Get out.

Screaming, he rushed forward, through whatever they were shooting. He felt the heat from his shields as they soaked the damage, and he hoped it would be enough. He fired as he moved, not necessarily trying to hit anything, but trying to get them to put their heads down. As he ran, he saw one of the aliens try and get in his way. Thinking quickly, he raised his arm up in front of his face as a shield, he slapped his rifle onto his back and drew his revolver. As he got close, he fired once, and the bullet tore through the creature's head as if it were made of melon. Before it fell, he seized it by it's throat, using it as a shield. He stopped moving and took his shots, the other alien's now unable to hit him behind the body of their comrade. Five bullets later, and he was the only living thing in the hallway.

He dropped the alien's body and moved forward, his right arm numb from firing the hand cannon. Setting the gun back against his thigh, he shook his arm out as he drew his rifle, deciding that it would be better suited for fighting the smaller aliens.

"The Fallen have a tighter hold on this place than I thought." The ghost said as they went through a large, destroyed control room that the aliens must have been in before ambushing him. An icon appeared on his display, indicating where he should go as the ghost said, "Let's hope there's something left out there."

He moved into the open passageway that the ghost had marked, leading to what looked like a massive air duct. As he stepped in, water sloshed around his feet, and he was grateful that the boots were waterproof. He moved forward slowly, each step sending a loud splash echoing down the passageway. After what seemed like ages, he finally came to the end of the duct, and immediately went out the exit passage, walking out to the surface.

And what he saw made him sink to his knees in shock.

"This was an old cosmodrome." The ghost said quietly, seemingly unaware of its owners state. "There's got to be something we can fly out here."

"Leningrad Air and Space Travel."

"What was that?" The ghost asked, surprised by the man suddenly speaking

"It was called Leningrad Air and Space Travel."

Everything was destroyed. Rusted, gone. Buildings were gone, spaceships that could have went to Venus in a day were now piles of scrap stuck on towers. Everything that humanity had accomplished since the dawn of the Golden Age was gone, now replaced with a dark, twisted shadow.

And it all hit him like a brick.

 _Not now. Bury it._ He thought to himself. He had always been good at that, moving on, focusing on the now and putting everything else on the back burner to sort out later. He was told more than once that he had a bad tendency to be apathetic towards the consequences of his actions, but that wasn't true at all. It was just that he always placed priority on the present, not the future. And now, the present was that he was in a hostile place, and wasn't safe.

Getting back to his feet, he started forward. It was then that he saw a flare shoot up from the distance, and heard gunfire in the distance. That was immediately drowned out by the massive boom that followed the flare. Looking up to the sky he saw a massive ship appear from a rift, and he had no doubt that it was more aliens.

"A Fallen ship? That's not good for us!" The ghost yelled into his ears, not helping the situation at all. However, what he said next did surprise him. "I'm picking up another guardian's signal up ahead, it's after them!"

That caused him to move forward, wanting to see what was happening. In front of him was a building that was overlooking where the ship had landed. He ran to a truck resting next to it, intending to use it to get on the building. However, when he jumped, he was shocked to see that he had totally cleared the truck and landed on the roof of the building itself. Accepting that he now had jumping powers, he moved behind some rubble on the roof and looked at the battlefield.

He didn't like what he saw.

There were easily a good forty or so aliens in front of him, and more dropping out of the ship. For once though, they weren't shooting at him. Instead, they were all focusing their fire on a lone building directly opposite of him. As he watched, he saw a flash of movement followed by a shot, and one of the armored aliens dropped to the ground, headless.

"I don't think they will be able to hold out for long." The ghost said in his ear. The way it spoke left a question in the air; should they, and would they, help?

Of course the question flashed through his mind. He could have left them. Gotten a ship, and went to wherever the ghost said they could go. He probably wouldn't have even encountered any more aliens, and no one would have known.

But he would have. And as he checked the ammunition on his rifle and aimed down the sights, he knew he made the right choice.

For the first few seconds, the aliens didn't even register his presence, and he was able to kill three of the smaller ones before they realized what was happening. He managed to get two more before they located him and turned his hiding spot into a bullet sponge.

"I hope you have a plan!" His ghost yelled, sounding terrified. He did. And this was it. Get their attention and let whoever was down below escape. Of course, that left him dead in the water. Or on the roof, as it were. He was strangely content with it. It had been in his job description before he died, so why would it change now?

Peeking out from behind the large piece of concrete that was his cover he saw that his plan had worked flawlessly, and that now nearly every alien was pointing its gun in his direction. Now it was just a question of holding out as long as he could. Given how much damage the cement was taking, that would be about a minute at most. He decided to make it count and started to fire bursts into the oncoming aliens, with their bullets in turn bouncing off his shields. While he did manage to take down a few more, it did nothing to break their resolve. Then, as he was peeking out to take another few shots, he saw the greatest feat of athleticism that he had ever witnessed.

The other guardian was standing on the roof of the building they had been hiding in, seemingly waiting for something. That something, as it turned out, was for the ship to open up and drop out more of the enemy. As he watched, they kneeled down, then sprang up in the air, towards the falling aliens. As they got to them, they used one of them as a platform and in mid air spring boarded off of him and onto the top of the ship. Once they reached the top, they were immediately covered in a blue aura and pulled out knives, driving them into the metal and running down diagonally across the hull, ripping through the metal and fuel lines beneath. As they reached the engines, they drove their blades in further and ran straight down before leaping off. The ship's engines immediately exploded, sending the vessel crashing down onto the aliens beneath it. However, the explosion also caught the guardian, who was slammed forward and caught in the inferno. It was all the man could do to take cover behind the cement and wait out the massive explosion. That was until the building he was on shook and finally caved in from the massive force. He didn't even realize what had happened by the time he was buried underneath the metal and rubble. Ironically, it was probably what saved him from the force and fire of the main explosion.

"Well that could have gone better." The ghost said sarcastically. He grunted in agreement as he started to shift some concrete off of him, trying to get up.

It took a few minutes of digging, which involved shoving metal, concrete, and steel beams off of him and out of his way, he finally managed to get himself out of the ruined building. And what he saw was a mess. Everything was on either burned, burning, or about to be burning. Add that to the scattered pieces of ship debris and aliens and it looked like a literal hell scape.

"I'm picking up the guardian's signal up ahead." The ghost said as it activated a marker on the man's HUD, a sad edge to his voice now. "If the Fallen get to them before us, they won't survive. We need to hurry!"

"Agreed." The man said simply, moving through the inferno, revolver in hand. All around him, the mutilated remains of aliens were scattered about. Arms, legs, torsos, all of it. It vaguely surprised him to see how insect like the aliens were beneath their armor. Chitin, green blood, even their fingers seemed to be insect like. All it did was add to his disgust for them.

He would sometimes come upon aliens still barely alive, crushed or wounded by the ship wreckage. He had no mercy for the dying, and simply stepped on their outstretched hands and arms as he walked by, not bothering to put them down like the animals they were. After all the hell they had put him through, they deserved to suffer.

After a few moments of combing through the wreckage, the man heard the tell-tale chittering of the aliens, and immediately readied his revolver before rounding a corner and seeing two of the bigger aliens huddled around the body of the guardian that had destroyed their ship. It looked like they had dragged them out of a massive pile of flaming metal and rock. He didn't wait to see what they were planning as he aimed and fired, drilling a hole through one's head. The other one, seeing his comrade fall and not wanting to fight, immediately tried to run before the man put a bullet in its back, dropping it.

With that finished, and after he made sure that the motion tracker was clear, he approached the dead guardian slowly, looking them over. From this close, it was fairly apparent that the guardian was female. Her cloak had been burned away, leaving only her darkly colored helmet and armor, which in itself had been burned and torn, revealing what looked like blue skin beneath. As he squatted down, putting a hand on her shoulder and turning her over, a bright light emanated from her helmet, and her ghost suddenly appeared and making him jump backwards in surprise.

"Oh thank goodness!" The red shell exclaimed, sounding relieved. The man immediately realized that she was speaking in a southern United States accent, adding to the bizarre day that he was having. "I was worried you were going to leave us!"

"Ruby!" The man's ghost exclaimed, phasing out of the man's armor and flying right to the other orb, buzzing with excitement. "I thought there was something familiar about your guardian! But that means…"

"Helana's alive 15!" Ruby replied, sounding relieved and using the ghost's number, which the man had not known before. Indeed, when the man looked her over, he watched her chest rise and fall. The ghost then continued, worried. "But she's hurt, badly."

"It's alright Ruby. Call down her ship so we can get out of here."

"We already tried! But they have some sort of signal jammer. We're stuck here!" Ruby was now yelling, her robotic voice sounding hysterical as it flew down to her master.

"Maybe not." The man replied, causing both ghost to look at him as he pointed to a building in front of them that had a ship partially sticking out of the roof. "If that thing is flyable, we can get out of here."

His sentence was punctuated by another boom as another alien ship boomed in on the horizon

"Let's go!" Ruby yelled, popping back into Helana's armor as he lifted her up and slung her over his shoulder, carrying her with one arm while holding his revolver in the other. He sprinted across the field and into the building, painfully aware that the ship was closing in far too quickly.

However, for the first time that day, it seemed like he had some luck with him, as they proceeded unchallenged through the dilapidated building, until they got to the atrium that they were after. As they walked in and he saw the ship, crashed through the roof and hanging up by electrical wires, his heart sank. It was an Arcadia class B-52. The thing was ancient BEFORE his world had been turned into a wasteland.

"This thing probably couldn't even make it to the moon." The man said, worried.

"Actually, it would be lucky to break the stratosphere." The ghost said, scanning it. "It doesn't even have a warp drive. Someone must have taken it when they were scavenging."

"Will it fly?"

After a moment, the ghost turned to him and said dryly, "I'll make it work."

At that moment, they heard the first chittering of the aliens coming from the hallways they had just run through. Laying the woman down, he saw that she was still unconscious. He then asked her ghost, Ruby, "Can you do something with her?"

As soon as he said it, a light enveloped the woman, and after a moment, she literally disappeared in front of his eyes. Ruby then said, "There, I put her in the ship! Me and 15 will start on repairs."

Checking his pistol and his rifle, the man readied himself. "Work fast. I'll hold them as long as I can."

As he spoke, he moved to a pillar where he could watch both the entrance he had come from and the doorway that led deeper into the building. Taking a breath, he steeled himself and aimed his rifle at the entryway, thinking. There had to be at least seventy coming from the drop ship, if the other one was any indication. And that wasn't including any ground troops that had come to investigate. Factoring those in, he guessed that he was against maybe a hundred alien soldiers, probably more.

 _At least I'll die on my feet this time._ The man thought to himself, amused at his own fatalistic attitude. However, those thoughts of him dying disappeared as soon as he saw the first alien rush through the door. He fired, striking it in the throat.

And so the onslaught began. After the first one, then two more. Then four. Then eight. And so on. After about thirty seconds, the rush got to the point that he couldn't kill them before they got through the door, and they started to take cover or rush him. The rushers he could kill. He started to move around the battlefield, dodging plasma and firing, trying to find the bastard, hoping it would be obvious. The aliens, meanwhile, had not only dug in behind pillars and behind various bits of cover, but had also climbed the walls, getting to vantage points to fire at him unimpeded. He managed to take down a few, but the rest started to fire, forcing him to dive out of the way and behind a pillar. He registered it as a strategic attack, which he took to mean that there was a commander.

As he took cover behind the pillar, trying to reload, he dropped the magazine from his gun. But when he reached behind him to grab one of the clips he had on his belt, he felt nothing but air.

"Ghost, need more mags for the rifle!" He yelled as he poked his head out to see the aliens moving closer to him, intent on dismembering him before they took the ship.

"I'm out for the rifle, use the revolver until you can get to their corpses and absorb their light." His ghost replied, sounding worried.

"God damn it." The man cursed, magnetizing the rifle to his back as he drew the revolver. As he was turning the corner to continue the fight, he was surprised to hear Ruby speak.

"Wait, do you know how to make grenades?" She asked, sounding scared.

"I can make grenades?"

"Yes, I guess 15 left that out." She yelled, her fear switching to anger at his ghost. Switching back to the man, she said quickly, "Focus your light into your hand, until it becomes a solid substance, and then throw it."

Thinking that she was crazy, he started firing his revolver at the aliens rushing him, while simultaneously trying to make a grenade the way she had said, with little success. He moved as he fired, trying to not get caught out in the open. However, as he moved behind another pillar, a blast of plasma caught him in the arm. Though it didn't get through his shield, it still burned like a hot iron. Anger flashed through his mind. As soon as it did, he felt a weight appear in his hand, and looked down to see a metal orb arcing blue light.

"There you go! Now throw it!" Ruby boomed in his ears excitedly. Following her directions, he threw it underhanded, aiming for a group of aliens that had taken cover at the doors. The resulting explosion sent a flash of blue electrical arcs in a huge circle, frying anything it touched.

 _That'll work._ The man thought to himself as he moved forward, pushing the aliens back as he moved forward, feeling their light go into him. It felt amazing, like a full shot of adrenaline straight to his heart, minus his heart exploding. Loading his rifle, he leapt back into the battle with renewed ferocity, shooting his rifle and revolver as fast as he could.

It was all going well, and the man even gave himself the faint glimmer of hope that he would actually win, until the alien captain showed up.

As soon as the man laid eyes on it, he knew it was leading the aliens. For one thing, it was massive, a foot taller than him at least and as wide as a sedan. Also, its weapon was a lot bigger than the other aliens', and its armor was both thicker and more refined, along with a blood red cape on its back.

As soon as he saw it, the man unloaded his revolver into it, intending to put it down quick. However, as he fired, he watched his bullets ping off a shield, ricocheting in multiple directions. He began to realize that he might have been out matched and started to back away, unloading with his rifle, trying to overload its shields. The captain, as he called it, wasn't affected in the least, and returned fire with its massive rifle. As he jumped out of the way, the man saw the plasma from the captain's rifle hit the wall behind where he had been standing, and watched as they melted through the rusted steel.

Knowing now that he was drastically over matched, he started to evade the captain, trying to kill his soldiers while avoiding the thing's rifle.

"Tell me you guys are ready!" He yelled, putting a bullet into the eye of a smaller alien while sliding into cover, avoiding both the captain and the other aliens firing at him from the walls. "This thing isn't dying!"

"Just give us another minute!" His ghost replied, sounding worried.

He made it thirty seconds.

He was running behind a pillar, trying to reload, when he saw it. The captain, expecting his move, had thrown a grenade right where he was now sliding. As he watched, it detonated, sending an electrical jolt through his body, sending him into the air and frying his shields. As he sailed through the air, he caught the sight of the captain, standing right where he was going to fall. He watched as the captain caught him as soon as he was within range, turned, and threw him as hard as it could across the room and into the steel wall, with such impact that he was stuck inside of the metal.

He couldn't move. His visor was cracked, and he could feel a shard of metal from the wall working its way into his shoulder. All he could do was watch as the captain slowly approached him, and he could swear it was laughing as it came to a stop in front of him. As he watched, the monster wrapped one hand around his head and pulled, ripping him from the wall, causing him to let out a scream of agony as the metal was torn from his shoulder. He could see the captain with one eye through his fingers, and realized it was probably smiling beneath the mask.

As the captain held him in the air, it laughed again as it started to squeeze the man's head. He could hear his helmet crack under the strain, and knew that the creature had him. However, he took solace in the fact that the grenade he was cooking in his hand that the creature didn't know about would even the score.

As his helmet was about to give, his face plate shattered, sending a few shards into his face. But still, he kept his eyes open and stared at the creature, wanting to see the thing that would be his end.

And as he watched, a bullet tore through the creature's shields and and into its shoulder. The captain immediately dropped him, turning to face the new threat.

That was all he needed as he smashed the grenade into the captain's back with his fist, denting it into the armor as he shoved the captain away. As it turned to face him and finish him off, the man half dove, half fell to the ground, watching as the grenade detonated and sent massive electrical charge through the captain, causing it to spasm as steam and smoke started to rise from inside its armor. It let out one final, pained scream before the electrical current caused its head to explode, covering the man in its blood and sending what remained of the creature's body flying into a wall.

As he rose to his knees, blood soaked and beaten, he saw the guardian that he had saved earlier standing on the ship, sniper rifle in hand.

He then heard another bellow, and turned to see another alien, one that dwarfed even the captain, walk through the door. It was massive, with intricate armor and a gun that looked like a ship cannon.

He stood shakily, drawing his revolver and taking aim, when he was surrounded by a white light. Suddenly, he wasn't looking at a massive ten foot alien, but the back of a Faux leather seat.

"Ruby, get us OUT OF HERE!" the other guardian screamed, sitting in the pilot's seat and frantically flipping switches to get them in the air. Suddenly, the ship roared to life and hovered in the air for an instant. In that moment, he looked out the window and locked eyes with the massive alien that beneath them. In the next moment, they were high above the cosmodrome, soaring through the air away from Leningrad.

He didn't know where they were going. And he didn't really give a damn either.


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

House, Not a Home

As he looked down from the airship to the broken land below, the man felt numb, and even the gaping wound in his shoulder didn't hurt nearly as much as it should have. He didn't know if it was because he was in shock, or if the ghost was doing something to numb the pain, nor did he really care. As he looked out, he saw something much more damaging than his shoulder: his world was gone. From the air, he could see that truly everything was destroyed. Every bridge, every building, every road, every stop sign. Gone, to say nothing of the people.

He suddenly felt constricted by his fractured. helmet, and reached to take it off. After a few moments of searching for a release, he realized that the piece of armor was ruined anyway, and simply put his thumbs on either side of the helmet and gently pulled it apart. He breathed a tired sigh as he felt the cool, dank air hit his bare skin, and allowed the broken pieces of the helmet to fall onto the bare floor. The entire compartment reeked of rot, mildew, and rusted metal, but he barely noticed.

Everything was gone.

He was shaken out of his thoughts when the red ghost popped up in front of him.

"Thank you so very much, Guardian!" She said ecstatically, whizzing around his head. "If you hadn't shown up when you did, I don't want to think about what would have happened."

"Always here to help, Ruby." His ghost replied, phasing out of the man's armor excitedly. After a moment, it flew up to the pilot seat to greet the woman sitting there. "Hello Helana. Happy to help."

"It's good to see you 15." Helana replied, her voice distorted from the helmet she wore. "Good to see that you finally found a guardian. Did you just res him?"

"Oh yes, my apologies. Ruby, Helana, this is…" The ghost started to say, but stopped when he realized that he hadn't even learned the man's name. "I'm sorry, guardian, but I haven't even asked you if you remember your name."

"Grant." He replied, not seeing any reason to hide who he was. Not like he could endanger his loved ones.

"Well hello Grant." Ruby said, sounding like a southern bell from the old movies that he used to watch. "Thank you so very much again for saving us."

'Yeah, thanks. Been awhile since I got in over my head." Helana said from the front. "Name's Helana. Hunter, and officially in your debt. You handled yourself pretty well out there, especially for someone who was just resed."

"For all it was worth." He replied coldly, looking out on the destroyed earth around him. "What were those things?"

"Fallen." She said nonchalantly. "Aliens, hell bent on killing us and taking the Traveler. Of all the alien races, I think they have been the ones to give us the most trouble over the last few centuries. We got lucky though. That was one of their archon's that was showing up when we left. Would have ripped us apart. And now we know just where he is."

"Lucky us." He deadpanned. He shifted in his seat and heard a squelch as he separated his bloody shoulder from the leather. It felt as if it was getting better, and made sure to note that he needed to ask how the healing worked at some point. However, something more important needed to be asked. "So, what killed my world?"

"That is an incredibly long, six-hundred-year story." Helana replied, looking at the console in front of her, trying to pick her words carefully, knowing that Grant was in a pretty delicate mental position. "Earth was attacked, and nearly destroyed, but the Traveler saved what was left of us with the last of its power, created the ghosts to resurrect people, turning them into the guardians of humanity. Someone will go over the rest with you when we get to the tower."

"The Tower?"

"Last mostly safe place in the world." She replied quickly. She figured that she would have to field more questions from him, and was surprised when he said nothing. Looking back, she saw he was staring out the window again, looking at the world in a way that only somebody who had lost absolutely everything could. He was a strange one, for sure. As she looked at his square face for a moment, she saw that much of it was covered in blood from his face mask shattering. She realized it must have been quite painful, but he acted like he couldn't feel a thing. She chalked it up to shock, and would radio ahead that he needed medical attention as soon as they got to the tower.

"How are you doing, by the way?" The ghost asked, turning to his new master, perhaps picking up on Helana's thoughts.

The man didn't even know how to begin to think about explaining how he was doing. So instead, just muttered, "I'm fine."

"Grant, you're in shock." Helana said back, annoyed. "You just came back from the dead to an alien army trying to kill you, including an archon priest. You're not fine."

"Believe it or not, I'm used to things trying to kill me." The man replied, looking out the window.

"Huh. Sounds like you must not have been dead long." She said, before realizing that something didn't seem right. If he hadn't been dead long, and the ghost had resed him, then he should have known what the Tower was. Confused, she asked, "So when did you die again?"

"Not something I want to talk about." He replied, shooting a glare at her.

"I get that, but I have to send a report to the Tower, so we can figure out what you need." She said quickly, covering her tracks. She began to think he may have been older than she first anticipated. "Look, I'm trying to help you here."

"Fine, but I don't know how much help I can be. I'm pretty sure I died in the first hour they attacked. Last thing I remember is seeing some strange… thing, like a mix between an insect and an ogre. Didn't even kill me, just looked at me and walked away while I bled out." He was surprised by her stunned silence. "What?"

"Do you remember your life before?" She asked, her voice dropping a few octaves. This earned her a confused and wary look from Grant, and for a moment, no one spoke.

"Yeah." He said carefully, confused. "Is that normal?"

"No."

That was the last thing she said the entire trip, which suited him fine. He needed time to think, anyway.

Meanwhile, in the front seat, the woman turned off her external speakers before radioing into the tower, and informed the dispatcher that she needed an immediate meeting with the Vanguard, and a security detail for a possibly dangerous new guardian.

…..

He saw the City long before they arrived. Of course, the first thing he saw was the Traveler, hanging over the city like a sun. The wall was the next thing that came into view. It was a massive slab of patchwork metal that had been ripped apart and pieced back together more than once. As they passed over it, he saw numerous armed guards far below him patrolling the walkway on top, and instantly grew a bit nervous.

As soon as they passed the wall, the buildings began, and he saw building upon building stacked upon each other, crammed together to create as much living space as possible using whatever metal they had available. Throughout the city, he saw massive roads and highways leading to the enormous waterway or large, foundry-like buildings that billowed smoke out in droves. He could see waves of people walking on the roads, going too or from work. Men, women, and even children, from what he could see.

It all looked so desperate. It shocked him for a moment, then he felt a wave of depression come over him. This is what his world had been reduced to. This one lonely city.

"This is…" He started, then stopped, not knowing what to say.

"Yeah." Helana said from the front, picking up on what he was feeling. "This is all that's left. What we fight for, every minute of every day. What you'll fight for now. Welcome home."

 _This isn't my home._ He thought quietly to himself, looking at the city with a mixture of depression and disgust. His home had been a shining monument to humanity. This was a pile of rubble.

In fact, the one thing that looked even slightly like something he was used to was the Tower. It was massive, stretching high enough in the sky to dwarf anything that came into view. Unlike nearly everything else he saw, the Tower itself looked well-made and maintained, giving it an air of importance. It seemed to lord itself over the city, and was the last show of power that humanity could muster now.

After a few minutes of flying and trying to get clearance to land, they finally got permission to dock, and carefully flew into the massive tower's ship bay. As soon as they touched down, the ship was clamped in place and the hatch opened, allowing them to hop out onto the docking bay.

As soon as his feet touched the ground, Grant found himself in the presence of two armed and very serious looking guards. Immediately his hand fell near his revolver, but froze as soon as the men raised their rifles at him. His brain went into action mode, and he was about to try and leap for cover when he heard Helana yell from the ship.

"Hey, HEY!" She yelled, jumping out of the ship and in front of Grant. Facing the soldiers, she started to tear into them, "I said I needed security, not a firing squad! Weapons. DOWN."

They all quickly complied, though some still seemed on edge, turning to Grant, she shook her head and said apologetically, "Sorry, but with the newly risen guardians, sometimes they react…badly."

"It's…Fine." He said slowly, after surveying the troops in front of him. They were security, for sure, which meant that she was telling the truth, at least partially. After a moment, he stood up, relaxed and slowly moved his hand away from his gun.

"Thanks for understanding." Helana said, sounding more than a little relieved, and more than a little surprised. Clearing her throat, she walked forward and gestured for him to follow. As he did, the two guards fell into step behind him. "We're going to meet with the Vanguard right now so we can get them briefed on you and on Riksis. On the way, I'll show you around a bit. Afterwards, you should be put through a physical test to determine what light you possess and what class you will belong to."

"Full day." He replied, following her and taking in everything around him. He saw various Frames moving around the hangar, working on ships of various makes and models, and doing everything from fixing holes to adding rocket pods. As he walked, a woman caught his attention: blond, covered in grease, and swearing up a storm at an uncooperative engine. Considering she was the only human on site, he assumed she was the boss of the hanger, and made a note to talk to her about his ship later.

As he left the hanger, he found himself entering a massive, bustling courtyard. Everywhere he looked, he saw people and robots running in all directions, doing a host of different things.

"This, obviously, is the main courtyard." Helana said as she walked forward, pausing to let Grant get his bearings. "That main building in the middle is for mail and packages. I'd suggest visiting it pretty regularly, you'd be shocked how quick it fills up. And that red tent right in front of us is where Rahool works. He's a cryptarch, pretty much a historian who decodes engrams. You'll learn about those, don't worry."

"He's blue." Grant stated simply, looking at the bored, bald, and more importantly _blue_ man.

"Yeah. Don't worry, he's fine. It'll all be explained after we speak with the Vanguard." She said dismissively as she led him along the side of the courtyard, away from the crowds of armored guardians walking through. As they circled around, Grant watched the field of guardians in front of him, awestruck at the weaponry and armor they wielded.

"Over there is the gunsmith, Banshee. Quiet guy, but he knows guns better than anyone." She pointed over to a kiosk that had an array of weapons on a table and hanging on metal siding all around. There were enough around for a small army, but strangely, there was no one there. Helana realized this immediately and said quizzically, "Huh. Guess he's not there. Probably picking up an order from the hangar."

They quickly moved on, eventually coming to a set of stairs that led underground.

"Hold on a second." She said, stopping and pulling down her hood. As he watched, Helana pressed a few buttons and releases, and her helmet popped open, and she took it off quickly. "Sorry, gets kinda stuffy in there, and the Vanguard prefers it when guardians don't wear their helmets."

"I'd imagine." Grant replied, studying her. Her black hair was surprisingly long, down to her shoulder, with some streaks of grey in it. She was older than he had initially thought she'd be, with weathered, somewhat wrinkled brown skin. Her eyes were dark brown, almost black, and he immediately placed her as Arabic in origin. She was quite attractive, though he didn't really see her in that light. There was far too much on his plate for that.

"Down there is the War Room and Crucible handler. Just relax. And whatever you do, when you see Shaxx, don't look scared."

Helana didn't even pause for him to ask anything as she started to descend underground, expecting Grant to follow. After a brief moment of doubt, he slowly followed, his hand never straying too far from the revolver on his leg.

They entered a massive atrium that led to two massive, closed doors. However, that wasn't what caught Grant's attention. That belonged to the massive human being standing to his right. The man was easily seven and a half feet tall and wore huge, thick, plate armor and a helmet that had a literal horn, with the other snapped off. Not to mention, on his back, was the largest sword that Grant had ever seen, easily six feet long and looked as if it could slice through the ship he had come in on like butter.

"Well. Who do we have here?" The man asked, slowly walking towards them, massive booted feet echoing in the hall. "Helana bringing in another stray?"

"Better be careful Shaxx. This stray wasn't up five minutes before he was tearing through Fallen like paper, pulled my butt out of the fire, even took down a Captain." Helana replied, her smile radiating. As soon as Shaxx got within reach, she gave him a friendly hug, which he returned readily with one arm, nearly blocking her completely from view. "Good to see you safe Hel."

"Wouldn't be, except for him." She replied, breaking the embrace. Turning to Grant she put her hand on his shoulder and introduced him. "This is Grant. You'll like him."

"Hmph. We'll see." He replied, now stepping in front of Grant. Grant was not a small man, by any means, and the fact that he had to crane his neck to look Shaxx in the face, or mask as it were, was not lost on him. Not only was he taller, but he was at least a foot wider on each side than he was. In other words, the man looked like he could literally eat him, and have room for seconds. "You. Boy. You don't look like much."

"Don't call me boy." As soon as he said it, his stomach dropped, and he knew he had likely just signed his death warrant. It just came out. Looking up at the man, he did his best to not show fear, and to be ready for whatever Shaxx was going to throw at him. What he wasn't ready for was the man's bombastic laugh.

"You're right Helana, I do like this one, he has some steel to him!" He boomed, slapping him on the back. "You'll go far, Guardian. I can't wait to watch you in the Crucible."

"Crucible?"

"Take a look." Shaxx gestured to a set of monitors where he had been standing, showing multiple battles. in the short time he watched, Grant saw people smashed, ripped, and shot dead. "If you're as good as Helana says, you'll do great."

"Umm, Thanks." He replied, relief flooding him as he watched the large man turn back to the area he had been in before, shouting at another terrified looking guardian. He tried to accept that these people watched each other be ripped apart for fun, and realised he might be in a lot more danger than he had realized.

"Well look at that. I think you made a friend." Helana laughed sarcastically. Clapping him on the shoulder, she pushed him further down the chamber to the closed doors. She seemed confused that they wouldn't open when they approached. Addressing the robot frame, she asked tersely, "What the hell 44, we have a meeting."

"Sorry, the Vanguard are currently having a meeting with the city council. They apologize for any inconvenience."

"God damn it Cayde." She said quietly to herself.

"What did you just say?" Grant asked suddenly, getting her attention.

"Oh, I was just talking about one of the Vanguard leaders, Cayde-6. He's a friend, and was supposed to get this meeting finished up before we got here." She said nonchalantly, turning to the frame beside her. She started to have a very heated conversation with it, and didn't notice Grant go pale beside her.

"So you're telling me that the Exo units were reactivated?" He asked darkly. As soon as she heard the words, Helana froze. His voice was full of fear, and when she turned to him, she saw his face was as well.

"Yes." She said slowly, trying to be gentle. "When everything happened, the Traveler reactivated them. Gave them full intelligence, and made some of them guardians. You don't need to worry, they're on our side."

"I don't buy it." He replied, his voice steeling over. His hand drifted closer to his revolver, and would stay there for the foreseeable future.

"Ms. Helana, they're ready for you." Frame 44 said before pressing a few buttons, causing the doors to open.

"Just trust me, alright?" Helana asked, looking into Grant's face. Looking at her, he saw the hope in her withered face, and felt himself melt a little bit.

"Fine." He replied simply, earning a nod from Helana. He followed her inside, and found himself in a large, beautifully decorated atrium. The walls were covered in trophies and old weapons, denoting past victories and warriors, while the center of the room was dominated by a massive table. As they walked in, he saw a blue flash in the middle of the table as a hologram disappeared. Around it were three people: a massive, blue man in thick plate armor, and a dark skinned woman in robes with a shotgun on her back, and a condescending stare that could make anybody wither. But Grant wasn't focused on them. Instead, his eyes went straight to the last one. Cayde-6.

"Sorry about that Helana, but you know just how hilarious the City Council can be." Cayde joked as they walked to the table. He spoke in an easy, laid back manner, and Grant was taken aback. This wasn't what he remembered at all. He looked like the Cayde he knew, right down to the facial pieces and the alternating blue-white of the metal. Even the damn horn was there.. "Hope you weren't waiting too long."

"Not at all, Cayde." Hellana replied easily as she walked to the table. "Ikora, Zavalla." She greeted, somewhat less enthusiastically

"Helana." They said in unison, much more professionally. Zavalla, the big, blue-skinned titan then continued, "We assume this is about the reconnaissance mission that you requested. We understand there were… Complications."

"By that he means we heard you almost ended up very dead, and that you picked up a stray." Cayde surmised, grinning a little bit when Zavalla sighed slightly.

"More like he picked me up." Helana corrected before going on. "The area was more hostile than we originally thought. Ended up getting ambushed by a pretty large group of Fallen, then their dropships showed up. He distracted them, then I took them down, but was knocked out when I hit the ground. He found me, carried me to a hangar, and held off the army of Fallen while the Ghosts repaired the ship. Even killed a captain."

"How?" This coming from the woman, Ikora. "He should have barely been able to think, let alone handle the Fallen. How did he…"

"The ' _He'_ s' name is Grant, and ' _He_ ' is right here." Grant said, causing the Vanguard leaders to look at him for the first time. Zavalla looked surprised, Ikora annoyed, and Cayde had to stop himself from giggling. Grant felt Helana turn to him, but didn't look, focusing on the individuals in front of him.

"Ahh yes. My apologies guardian…"

"Grant."

"Aren't we a brave one." Cayde jumped in, thoroughly enjoying the new guy. He stopped, however, when Grant sent him a quick look of unbridled loathing that caught him unawares. It wasn't just the hate and venom that that surprised Cayde though. There was something else there. Something he couldn't quite place.

"I was promised answers. The last thing I remember was the sky darkening, my ship going down, and watching something that looked like nightmare fuel walk away from me while I died. Now: What happened?"

"Mind your tone guardian." Zavalla interjected, obviously getting irritated at the upstart. He was about to go on about how it wasn't his place to talk to them in this way, and that he should be honored to be here among the elite, but was stopped when Grant spoke again.

"I was dead for over 700 years, I wake up and see my world is a hellscape and am immediately attacked by something out of a science fiction movie, nearly die a dozen times over, and you want me to watch my tone?" He was seething now. He didn't see Helana's head go down as she sighed and glanced up at Cayde, who was looking at Grant with a mixture of shock and wonder.

"You mean to tell us that you are from pre-collapse?" Ikora asked for the rest of the Vanguard, her normally calm and cool demeanor wilting under the news that they may be looking at a living Golden Age relic.

"Yes. I was a Sergeant in SRDC. That's how I know how to fight. Now, about my questions…"

"Hold on." Ikora said, raising a finger to him as she searched a holo display, looking for something. "SRDC, as in System Reconnaissance and Defense Corps?"

"Yes." He breathed, growing more and more irritated.

"You were a soldier?" This time it was Zavalla, speaking up for the first time in a while, sounding somewhat out of breath.

"Along with being a pilot and explorer, yes."

"Who did you fight?" Ikora asked, looking at him with curiosity.

"Uh-uh." He replied, shaking his head. "First, I want to know what happened, and I mean everything."

"In time." Ikora stated, turning to Zavalla. "I want to run some tests on him. Physiological, psychological, blood, light level, everything."

"I'm not a lab rat."

"No, you're a once in a lifetime glimpse into the past. No harm will come to you." Ikora reassured.

"And I'm supposed to believe you?" Grant asked, making his distrust known. Turning to Helana, he looked at her hard and asked, "Did you know this was going to happen?"

"No, but you can trust them." Helana said quickly, trying to reason with him.

"They want to dissect me Helana." He replied quickly, his hand noticeably near his revolver.

"Maybe we can all take it down a notch?" Cayde suggested, trying to break the tension, concern breaking into his voice and showing on his metallic face. "Look, how about we let the man get some sleep before we do anything. He's had a helluva day."

"For once, we agree." Zavalla replied, earning a shocked look from Ikora and Cayde both. He turned to Grant and spoke, retaking control of the room, "Guardian… Grant, you will be escorted by two guardians to your sleeping quarters. In the morning, we will get you and bring you to Ikora and her Warlocks for testing. All perfectly safe. No… Disection. Afterwards, you will be briefed by someone on current events, then you will be tested to see which order you belong to."

"It doesn't sound like I have much choice." Grant deadpanned back as the doors opened and the two guards from the shipyard stepped in. He looked to Helana, and he could tell that she felt sympathetic for him, for all the good it did. She was the one who got him into this. "You coming?"

"No." Zavalla answered for her. "She has to give us her report on her mission. You will be perfectly safe with the two guards."

"Fine." He knew that there was nothing more he could do. As he turned to leave, he caught Cayde's eye and stared into it. Searching for something that he knew must be in there. However, all he saw was metal in the shape of a concerned and curious look.

As the doors closed, cutting him off from view, Cayde said quietly, "That guy worries me."

…..

Grant walked with the guards slowly, observing everything around him, waiting for his moment.

"Well that could have gone better." He heard inside his head, and realized it was his ghost. "Sorry I was so quiet back there, I was a little nervous."

"It's fine." He thought, and was about to actually say it when he had a thought. "Wait, can you hear my thoughts?"

"Only if you actually want me to hear them." His ghost replied. "I don't understand how exactly it works, but it does. With every guardian and their ghost."

"Good. Can you go get the ship started?" He asked, and he could almost feel the ghost's shock. Or maybe he actually COULD feel it.

"Why? What are you planning?"

"Like I said in there, I'm not a lab rat, and I won't be experimented on by people who I don't know anything about. By people who watch each other get ripped apart for fun. So I'm leaving. And while you're at it, search whatever you use as a database for where we can find a warp drive."

"Ok, but how are you going to get to the ship? It has to be disengaged manually from the dock, and I doubt the guards will just allow you to go."

"I'll worry about that. Get going." Grant commanded softly, and felt the ghost's presence leave him. That just left him and the guards. Both armed with assault rifles. Both armored except for their heads. It was going to be a challenge for sure, but he had the advantage that they were commanded to simply escort him and not kill him. And, of course, they assumed that he was harmless.

He waited until they were in the stairway to make his move. He went down to a knee, faking an injury. As soon as one of the guards bent over him to see what was the matter, he launched upward, smashing the top of his head into the guard's face and sending him backwards. Spinning around, he grabbed the other guard's rifle and jammed it into the man's shoulder, sending him back into a wall before smashing his face with his forehead and shoving his forearm into the man's throat, quickly strangling him until he fell unconscious. After checking that the other guard was dazed, he started to run, knowing that they wouldn't be down for long. Luckily for him, night had fallen by the time he had finished with the Vanguard, and the courtyard was much less busy than it had been previously. Sprinting across it, he saw the blue man, Rahool, looking at him like he had a second head. It wasn't until he was nearly through the hangar door that he heard the first shout coming from the guards. He tore through the hallway and actually jumped the entire flight of stairs landing in the hangar with a roll.

As he rose to his feet, he saw the blonde woman from earlier flying over the control booth of the hanger, trying to figure out why there was a ship cycling up for takeoff. Out of the corner of her eye she saw him, and recognized him as the ship's owner.

"Thank the Traveler! I don't know what's going on but your shi…"

"I'm leaving. How do I disengage the clamps?" He asked simply as he briskly approached her. For her part, she looked surprised, then grew furious.

"What's gotten into you? You can't just take off without clearance!" she yelled as he finally reached her, staring up at him and trying to not look scared.

"Fine. Sorry about this." He said quietly. A flash of confusion crossed her face before he seized her, pulling her in, turning her around and putting her in a choke hold.

"Don't worry, you're alright." He said softly, not looking at her as she struggled in his grasp. He didn't want to do this, but knew he didn't have a choice, and thus tried to minimize her fear. "Just putting you to sleep. Just let go."

And, after a few moments, her eyes rolled back in her head and she went limp. Grant gently laid her to the ground. He did legitimately feel bad about what he had just done to her, but reasoned that she was in the wrong place, wrong time.

"Ghost, tell me you know how to do this." He yelled in his mind as he ran to the control panel.

"Please." He heard his ghost say sarcastically. After guiding him through the necessary button combinations and lever pulls, he heard the clamps disengage, and was immediately phased into the cockpit of his ship, just as the guards that he had knocked out burst into the hanger.

"Punch it!" he yelled as bullets started pinging off the hull. Immediately his ship shifted beneath him, and suddenly they were out of the hangar, zooming over the city towards the wall. Taking over the controls, he yanked the joystick backwards, gaining altitude and avoiding the anti-air fire. The radio buzzed, saying that he was in a no fly zone and would be shot down immediately if he didn't ground himself. That just spurred him on. As the explosions rocked his ship, he went as fast as he could go, zooming over the city and over the wall itself. As soon as he cleared it, the explosions stopped, and he climbed higher and higher until he was in sub-orbit.

He kept himself on edge for the next thirty minutes, waiting for something to come after him.

"Well, that was fun." His ghost said from the speakers of the ship.

"Not even a little." Grant replied, letting his head crash against his seat. He'd be lying if he had said that he had much of a plan. All he had known was that he couldn't have stayed there. "Any luck finding that warp drive?"

"I didn't find any in any salvage reports, and the Fallen are pretty set on scavenging as many as they can." The Ghost replied. "I've plotted a course to a downed guardian ship that might have one."

"Good. Wake me when we get there." Grant replied, pleased that they had something of a plan. Afterwards, he'd have to try and leave Earth. To see if there was anything still out there. Maybe he could even get to Titan and see if there was anything left of Outer Heaven.


	4. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

If The Shoe Fits

It was five hours later when the Ghost woke him. As he opened his eyes, he saw the glow of the sun start to appear on the edge of the horizon. Looking around, he felt a wave of confusion wash over him, as he looked out and saw the same space dock that he had come back to life in.

"Where are we?" He asked, sitting up in his seat and cracking his neck slowly.

"I believe you called it 'Leningrad Air and Space Travel'." The Ghost replied from the speakers, steering the ship closer to the ground. "I kept us in sub-orbit for a few hours while you slept. I figured you could use it. I also scrubbed the navigation of anything the Vanguard might have slipped in, so there's no way they can track us."

"Thanks." Grant replied distantly, stretching his shoulders and fingers. "So I'm guessing our objective is close to here?"

"Yes. It was actually my fall back plan if we couldn't get a ship the first time." The Ghost then popped up a holographic map from the center console, detailing the area. As Grant watched, the Ghost highlighted a specific part of the map, saying, "The Guardian's ship went down close to here. He and his ghost were destroyed by the impact, meaning that they won't miss anything. Unfortunately, I've been picking up a lot of fallen activity in the area. I don't think I need to tell you to be careful."

"You could. Might make me feel all warm and fuzzy." Grant joked without humor, checking the cylinder on his revolver before magnetizing it back to his leg. It was still dark out, so at least he would have the drop on whatever was down there.

"2 minutes til landing." The ghost said back, then added, "Also, be careful."

"Aww." He replied, quietly giving a dry chuckle. A few moments later, he felt the ship slow and prepared himself. He watched as his body disappeared in a flash of light, and suddenly found himself standing on the hard, frozen ground of the cosmodrome. "I swear; I will never get used to that."

"Give it time." The ghost replied. "The ship is up ahead. Be careful, scans show that Fallen have already reached it and are poking around."

"Good." Grant replied wolfishly, relishing the opportunity to kill more of the aliens that destroyed his world. Drawing his rifle from his back, he got moving, the cold wind freezing his exposed, bald head, giving him a bit of a headache. As he moved, he thought about what he would do next, and if he had overreacted with the Vanguard. Maybe they had been above board with everything, maybe they had wanted to simply examine him. But how could he take the chance? He knew nothing about this world, and for all he knew, the Vanguard could have been as bad, if not worse than the aliens.

He was pulled out of his thoughts when he smelled smoke billowing over a hill in front of him. Immediately he slowed and raised his rifle, listening for anything that could be amiss. As he moved further and further up the hill, he started to hear Alien chatter, and immediately knew it was the Fallen, their strange clicking language giving them away. Gripping his rifle tighter, he walked faster until he neared the crest, where he dropped onto his chest and crawled the rest of the way until he could overlook the scene.

He counted eight Fallen, a mix of what he had learned were called Vandals and Dregs, all poking around the smoldering crater made from the ship that had once belonged to another guardian. The ship itself was in pretty bad shape, with the cockpit virtually obliterated from the impact. However, the cargo hold still seemed to be intact, and it was clearly what the Fallen were after. Two Dregs stood guard on top of the ship, with another two patrolling, and three Vandals and a last Dreg working on the cargo door, trying to open it carefully.

He watched the patrol, and waited until it was nearly directly in front of him before he struck. Rising to a knee, he sent a burst of bullets from his rifle directly into the closest Dreg's chest, putting five bullets right where its heart was. He didn't even pause as he switched to the other Dreg, putting another burst into the same spot, killing it before its comrade had even hit the ground.

Over the initial shock, the other aliens roared and returned fire on him, getting him up and moving down the hill. He moved side to side, dodging and weaving between the slower plasma shots, avoiding most of the damage. As soon as he got close enough, Grant leapt into the air, firing down on the Dregs on top of the ship. He managed to down one before landing, and immediately lashed out with his fist at the other, hitting it in the torso and sending it flying backwards off the ship, its torso caved in. He didn't stop to reload as he slapped his rifle to his back with one hand while drawing his revolver with the other, cocking the hammer before jumping off the ship, landing heavily on the ground near the cockpit. Raising his revolver, he moved forward, firing as soon as he saw the Dreg round the corner, followed shortly by the Vandals. He fired with precision and speed, falling back on his training. And, as he moved forward, the Vandals dropped, one at a time, and by the time he reached the back of the ship, the ground was soaked with their dark blue blood and brain matter.

"Have fun?" His ghost asked as it popped out of his armor and floated towards the cargo door. After a few moments, the door hissed and opened slowly, revealing a dark, destroyed interior. "I've already scanned the ship. The warp drive was destroyed in the crash, but it looks like the inner cabin is still intact. There may be some weapons and armor for you in there."

"Good." Grant replied, taking one last look around before carefully stepping into the dark ship, closing the hatch behind him. Immediately the Ghost lit up like a lightbulb, illuminating the area. To say it was a mess would have been an understatement. All through the cargo hold, boxes and containers were strewn everywhere, their contents spilled all over the floor.

"So who was this guy?" He asked as he made his way through the hold, poking around the boxes and debris, trying to find anything useful.

"He was a guardian that was investigating reports of Hive in the area." The Ghost replied as it floated ahead of him, scanning boxes. "Once he and the rest of his team got here, however, his ship was shot down by Fallen on the ground. The first shot destroyed his Ghost, and he was dragged out of his ship and murdered by an Archon before the team could do anything. Sad really.

As he walked further in, his Ghost flew ahead of him, scanning more boxes until it stopped over a large, grey chest.

"Here." It said simply, hovering over the container until he got close. Grant immediately unclasped the sides, confidant that the Ghost had already scanned it for traps. Carefully, he opened the lid, looking over the contents inside.

"What do you think?" The Ghost asked, hovering over him.

"What did you say this guy was?" Grant replied, reaching down and picking up something from the box.

"He was a Titan."

As he examined the helmet in front of him, he felt something twinge inside. Rounded face mask, with complete protection aside from the two small eye slits and a small hole where his nose would be, giving the helmet a skeletal image. It looked like he could use it to go head first through a wall, literally. Something brutal.

"If the shoe fits…"

…..

Helana sat at the back of the cafeteria, hands folded in deep thought and concentration, her food nearly untouched in front of her. She was frustrated, to say the least. She had been about to finish debriefing the Vanguard on the location of Archon Riksis when they heard the news that not only had Grant managed to escape his guards, knock out Holliday, and steal his ship, but that they had lost track of him after he moved far enough beyond the city's walls and into orbit. Which meant that, for now, finding him was the Vanguard's top priority. As if that wasn't enough, Cayde, in all of his infinite wisdom, decided that she and her team were to remain in the Tower until further notice. When she asked why, all he said was that he had a hunch about something and until it panned out, he needed her there.

And somehow, in all of this, she couldn't help but feel that this was her fault. She had been the one to bring Grant in, maybe she should have explained more of what was going to happen. Granted, she had no idea that the first thing Ikora could think to do was an invasive examination of the man. Of course, Zavalla hadn't been a help either. And because of them, and maybe because of something she should have thought of, Grant was in the wind, and probably a dead man.

"You know it's not your fault, right?" She heard from across the table. Looking away from her drink, she saw that her pupil, squad mate, and lunch companion Rayner Dorn had looked up from the device that he had been tinkering with to try and talk to her, which meant that she really must look distraught. "You couldn't have known what he was going to do."

"I shoulda known though, kid." Helana replied, not letting herself off the hook that easily. "I mean, the first thing Ikora did, the very FIRST thing, was order a physical and mental exam of the guy. I mean, his whole world was fine _yesterday_! And then Zavalla just went right along with it."

"Ikora has never been a people person, ma'am. You know that." Rayner said easily, causing Helana to sigh in defeat, knowing that he was right. He had always had a knack for putting her at ease, ever since he had been assigned to her team a few years prior. He was reliable and caring, especially for a Warlock. He definitely LOOKED like a Warlock though: Tall, gaunt, long black hair, pale skin, and gave off a sort of dark vibe. It was as if he had specifically been filling out a checklist for looking spooky.

She was taken out of her thoughts by Rayner's Ghost, Bolts, speaking up. The spiky purple machine rarely spoke, mirroring its companion, making the moments when it did seem all the more important, its English accent giving the ghost and added air of intelligence. "Has Kara been informed?"

"Yeah. She's on her way here." Helana replied, cringing slightly. That was not a conversation she was looking forward to. Kara, more than any of them, had wanted Riksis's head on a spike, and that was saying something. It had been all Helana could do to get the other huntress to stay in the Tower while she went and scouted for the Archon, as they both knew that Kara wouldn't have been able to stop herself from taking a shot at him. Though, she wondered if she could have restrained herself, either.

Especially for Val. Every time she thought of him, her chest ached. Val Naylor had been like a son to her, and had been her apprentice longer than either Kara or Rayner. He had been one of the kindest people she had ever had the pleasure of knowing, even rivaling Vel Tarlow, with whom he shared his class as a titan and specialty as a defender. Both he and his Ghost, Quart, lived up to the name, first into the battle to defend and protect their friends and allies. And now they were both dead.

"Thinking about Val and Quart?" Rayner asked, looking up again.

"Yeah. You?"

"Yeah." He looked back down, obviously deep in thought. After a moment, he said quietly, "It doesn't matter where he goes, or how long it takes. We'll find Riksis. And when we do, both Val and Quart will be honored."

"Here, here." Bolts said, bobbing up and down. Ruby, who was hovering silently behind Helana, nodded in agreement, pleased that its companion was feeling a bit better.

"Absolutely." Helana agreed, smiling a little despite the situation. However, that grin dropped from her face as soon as she caught a glimpse of a woman with reddish-black hair, an angular face, and a pissed off walk marching through the doors and right towards her. Following her gaze, Rayner also saw what was coming, and wisely dove back into his tinkering, taking shelter from the coming storm.

"Kara." She greeted, knowing that the woman was furious, and preparing for the inevitable tidal wave that was coming.

"Ma'am, this is crap." Kara yelled, her face alive with anger.

"Kara, listen…"

"You find Riksis, and right before we are about to fly out and give that pointy-headed bastard what he deserves, we're grounded because some new guy decides to fly off and the Vanguard has their heads too far up their own asses to track him?" she surmised, slamming her hand onto the table. She was loud enough that every patron in the cafeteria was looking at the table.

"Kara…" She started, trying to calm the huntress down, painfully aware that they were being watched. However, Kara wasn't finished.

"And worst of all, this is all on you! Not only did you bring this psycho here, but because you took your eye off him, he runs off to die somewhere, and you are just sitting here and doing nothing! Do you even care that Val died?"

"Kara!" Helana said forcefully, fed up with the much younger woman's tirade. Staring fire right into her, her voice quiet yet carrying the weight of a cargo ship, she commanded, "Sit. Down. Now."

This seemed to shake Kara out of her anger, which caused her to look around and realize what she had done. Still fuming, however, she stood for a minute, daring to continue. However, the look that Helana gave her was enough to cow her, and she slowly sat down opposite of her, never breaking eye contact with the other huntress.

"It wasn't my choice to ground us, first of all." Helana started, her own anger barely under restraint. "Second, Cayde was the one who asked us to stay put, not Ikora, not Zavalla. I don't agree with it, but he has something planned, and I trust him, so until I SAY OTHERWISE, we don't leave the Tower. Third, that 'psycho' not only saved my life, not only dragged me through Fallen infested territory, but he was just risen, and from the Golden Age."

She let that sink in, watching the realization come to Kara's face. She glanced at Rayner, who had his face shoved far down into his device, not daring to look up at the two irate huntresses.

"And lastly, do not, EVER, say I don't care about MY team." Helana said this with enough force that it made Kara look away, realizing what she had said. "Val and Quart's deaths are on me. They are my responsibility. Don't ever assume that I don't care about them. Unlike you, I can't let that get in the way of my job to protect you two."

The table was silent, each squad member waiting for someone else to speak up. What they weren't expecting was for that voice to come from someone else.

"So, as much as I do agree with your apprentice that the other Vanguard can generally have their head's in the wrong place, namely their asses, I will have you know that I, in particular, am always on the right side of things." Cayde said snarkily as he sat down at the table, breaking the tension with his very presence, as he was known to do. Looking at each squad member, he spoke with an irritating yet suave grin. "Now boy and girls, I have some good news, some bad news, some more good news, and some great news!"

"Well don't keep us in suspense, Cayde." Helana replied stonily, not in the mood for his theatrics at the moment. "What do you have for us?"

"First the good news: We found Grant." He said quickly, dropping the theatricality, for the most part. "Bad news, I was right, and he is headed straight back to where we know Riksis is, probably looking for a warp drive. We got a signal from Val's crashed ship, and we know the Fallen didn't get in, as the signal is still going."

"God damn it." Helana cursed quietly, shaking her head.

"Good news again, you guys are going after him, and are also ordered to kill Riksis as painfully as you want." This caused all of their faces to light up in excitement, each ready to kill the thing that had taken their friends.

"And the best news of all:" He paused, letting the drama build up, before saying slyly, "I'm coming with you guys."

This stunned the squad, as none of them had expected it. Helana immediately grew suspicious, knowing how dedicated Cayde was to his role in the Vanguard, and wanting to know why grant was so important to him in particular. Cayde simply got up, looked around the table one last time and said, "Wheels up in ten, pack your biggest guns and Kara, you're paying for everyone's lunch, considering your head was farther up your own ass than the Vanguard's."

That made everyone rise from their seats and take off, getting things squared away as Cayde ambled back towards the hanger, ready to be out in the field again.

…..

"So what do you think?" The Ghost asked, hovering behind Grant and observing him attach the last piece of armor to his forearm. The skin tight suit, which in his time had been called a sheath, fit him perfectly, and each piece of armor magnetized to the suit as readily as if they had been specifically made for it. Everything was surprisingly light, considering he felt like he could run straight through a few walls. The armor was a surprisingly perfect fit, and Grant wondered if perhaps the Ghost had tailored it to him as he was putting it on.

The armor was dark grey and blue, the colors muted as to make them stand out less. It reminded him of a cross between tactical battle armor, a space suit, and medieval plate mail. And he'd be lying if he said he didn't like it.

"It'll do nicely." Grant replied thoughtfully, sliding the helmet onto his head as he talked. Once it was secured, it hermetically sealed itself to the rest of the sheath, cutting him off from the world. As soon as it was secure, the visor lit up, displaying the same tactical data his last helmet had. "Hope the guy it belonged to wouldn't mind."

"He wouldn't." The ghost assured him. He noted how sure the ghost sounded when it said this, deciding to ask more about it later.

He made his way out of the ship quickly, knowing that time was of the essence. Climbing out of the ship carefully, he slammed the hatch down with enough force to jam it into place, ensuring that it wouldn't be raided by the Fallen.

"Alright Ghost, where too?" He asked impatiently, wanting to get a move on.

"I'm picking up data transmissions coming from an underground computer five miles ahead of us. With any luck, if it doesn't have a warp drive, it'll tell us where one is. Displaying it now."

As soon as he saw the icon pop up in front of him, Grant set off. Though to him it felt like he was going at a jogging pace, in actuality he was going faster than he had ever run before, covering the distance at a speed he would have thought impossible yesterday.

10 minutes later, he came to a stop on a hill overlooking the facility. From his position, he could see around 10 Fallen in front of the small building that led to the computer he was after. The Fallen themselves were mostly dregs, with a few vandals supervising them.

 _I can deal with that._ He thought to himself as he readied his rifle, mapping out a battle plan that would comprise both speed and precision, and would most certainly have left most of the aliens dead before they knew what happened, with the rest of them quickly falling. It was a superb plan.

And then he heard a beep from behind him, and felt a hot ball of energy crash into his back, bouncing off his shields. He fell forward and turned, landing on his back and firing, destroying a small, floating robot. But not before it sent out a loud ring that echoed along the empty landscape.

"That's a shank, the Fallen use them like guard dogs."

"That would have been nice to know five minutes ago!" Grant yelled as got to his feet and started running, knowing that any sense of surprise was gone with the machine's death alarm.

Indeed, as soon as he started sprinting down the hill, he was immediately met by a storm of bullets and plasma from the Fallen below him. He knew he didn't have a choice now. He had to run right through it and get down there before the Fallen could actually get into cover and get dug in. If they did, he'd have a much tougher fight ahead.

Running full tilt down the hill, he didn't even try to avoid the fire coming at him, as most of it missed due to his shocking speed. As he got closer, he started firing his rifle, sending bullet after bullet at the entrenched Fallen. He wasn't actually trying to hit them, just trying to keep their heads down as his proximity made him an easier target for them.

As he approached, many of the Fallen retreated behind some large, rusted shipping containers, trying to set a perimeter. The few Dregs that remained didn't last long, falling to the ground as he passed with more holes than they had seconds prior.

Seeing that the rest of them had retreated behind the containers, Grant decided to test out something. Rather than slowing, he kept his speed up, holding his rifle as tight as he could for what was coming.

Just as it was almost too late, he jumped, tilting forward.

He barely cleared the container.

As he passed over the aliens and took aim, upside down, and fired. He dropped three of the Dregs before he hit the ground, tucking and rolling into a crouch, spraying all around him before the Fallen could react. Any fire the Fallen got off before his bullets found them were absorbed by his shields, which barely fizzled in response.

After 10 seconds, it was over.

Breathing heavily, his eyes moved over the carnage around him, searching among the dead for any sign of life. However, the bodies of the aliens were as still as rocks, and after a moment, he allowed himself a small sigh of relief. Part of him couldn't believe that what he had done had worked, as it seemed like something that would happen in one of the earlier 21st century action movies. But, he reasoned, maybe now the unorthodox was the new combat 101. And a small part of him enjoyed slaughtering the things that killed his world.

As he rose to his feet, he thought to himself that, with his enhanced mobility and strength, it reminded him of when he had fought on Mars' lower gravity. That made him wonder what it would be like on Mars now, or the moon for that matter. That was then, however. He needed to focus on the present.

"Impressively done." The Ghost said from his armor as it sent a pulse in front of him and into the small shack, ensuring that it was clear of hostiles. "They managed to get a transmission out, we need to hurry."

"On it." He replied quickly, changing a magazine and racking a new shell into the rifle as he entered the rusted shack. As soon as he walked in, he saw the stairs in the back that led down into the bunker, and the pitch blackness that they disappeared into. "Ghost?"

"Here." It replied helpfully as it started emitting a beam of light and floated behind his shoulder, illuminating everything in front of him.

Slowly he crept down the stairs, his eyes following the ghost's light. At the bottom of the stairs, he was met with a hallway with two open double doors at the end. He moved slowly, each step echoed down the empty hall as his eyes constantly searched for any movement. As he entered the room, his rifle sweeping the area, he breathed a sigh of relief upon seeing the room was indeed empty.

"The console in front of us." The ghost said quickly as it flew ahead of Grant, leaving him in the dark as it went to the other side of the room to scan a large computer. After a few moments, the ghost turned back to him, its tone grim. "I found us a warp drive, but the Fallen already have it."

"Can you lock onto its signal?"

"Already done, but there's something else," The ghost replied, sounding worried. "The Fallen guarding this place sent out a distress signal before you killed them. We should have been swarmed with fallen dropships by now, but we aren't."

"Damn." Grant realized that something was almost certainly amiss, but he also realized that there was no way that they could leave without the warp drive. Without it, he couldn't get away from Earth. Couldn't find out if there was anything left. "We'll have to keep on guard, but we can't leave without that warp drive."

"Understood." The ghost replied hesitantly, obviously unsure of the idea but unwilling to say something, especially when he could tell how important this was to his guardian. "I'm marking it now. The signal is coming from a hangar further inside the cosmodrome. Just be ready."

"Always." He replied stonily, quickly going back down the hallway, his ghost phasing back into his armor as soon as he reached the stairs. As he left the shack, he saw again the crumpled bodies of the Fallen he had killed, and again felt that strange sense of glee. It was the first thing that had made him happy since he had woken up in this world, and it was just beginning.

As he moved over the snow swept tundra towards his objective, he again took in all the destruction around him; the rusted planes, the wrecked ships, the bombed out and destroyed buildings. He saw it all. He drank it in, letting it get swallowed up by the void that had appeared inside him. It had been steadily growing in intensity as he spent more and more time in the disaster that was his world. It wasn't some poetic fire in his heart or whatever. More, it was a growing sense of numbness that was encircling him. He didn't feel sorrow anymore. He didn't feel angry. He just felt nothing. Maybe he was still in shock. Maybe it was some coping mechanism that his brain was forcing onto him in some attempt to let him keep his sanity. He didn't know. All he knew was that he couldn't do anything about it. All he could do was keep putting one foot in front of the other.

He reached the entrance of the building that he was after without conflict, and was at this point extremely wary. He had seen signs of Fallen throughout the hike, from hot, smoking metal to ripped open boxes with their goods littered on the tundra. But he hadn't actually seen any of the aliens. As if they had known he was coming and gotten out of his path to avoid conflict. He wasn't arrogant enough to believe that they were afraid of him, which left one alternative: Ambush.

"Ghost, pulse." He commanded quietly, checking that his revolver and knife were ready to draw at a moment's notice if his rifle failed. He watched the pulse go through the open doors and up the stairs in front of him, and watched his sonar read empty.

He didn't trust it for a second, and proceeded up the stairs as carefully as he could, waiting for something, anything, to alert him to the ambush. Nothing when he reached the top of the stairs. When he pushed open the rusted door, the only sound was the hinges screaming in protest, revealing the empty hangar.

He could feel his skin crawl beneath his armor, his eyes frantically searched the massive room in front of him. Aside from piles of rusted scraps of metal and electronics littering the floor, there was nothing. Nothing except a massive hole in the wall facing him, large enough to drive a car through. Slowly, he walked into the room, waiting for something to happen. The marker that his Ghost had created was right in the middle of the room. However, when he reached it, he found there was nothing except air.

"Where is it?" He whispered harshly, aware that he was probably being surrounded on the outside of the building.

"The signal says it's right here!" The Ghost replied, obviously as agitated as its guardian. However, that was when there was a barely measurable blip on the sonar. "Wait, picking something up."

Grant looked where the sonar had picked up something, and found himself staring straight into the massive hole in the wall. As he peered intently into the dark, he could see nothing. He was about to ask for the Ghost to turn on its flash light when he heard a barely audible click of metal.

He dove to the ground, the plasma blast so close that he could feel the heat from it on his skin, through his armor and shields. As he rolled to his feet, he was taken aback by a roar loud enough that he felt his armor vibrate with its intensity.

As he watched, two massive hands grasped the sides of the hole before they pulled the rest of the monstrosity out. One that he had seen before. The blood red cape, the monstrous gun, the helmet that resembled Satan himself. The monster that had brutally murdered the guardian whose armor Grant now wore.

"Oh no." The Ghost said quietly, mirroring its owner's reaction.

Riksis had come for him.

…..

"Attention passengers, this is your captain speaking, please fasten your seatbelts in case of turbulence and/or anti-aircraft fire. We will be reaching our destination in fifteen minutes. Sit back, relax, prepare for some good old-fashioned revenge killing and likely kidnapping, and thank you for flying air Cayde."

"Does he ever take anything seriously?" Rayner asked from his seat in the cargo hold of Cayde's ship, checking his pulse rifle again, ensuring that everything was in order, going over every fine detail. The Vanguard leader had decided that it would be best for the entire squad to fly in his ship, as it had stealth capabilities. Plus, he reasoned, if they found Grant, he might be less than cooperative. While none of the three were especially warm on the idea, they didn't argue.

"You'd be surprised." Helana replied from across the hold, gazing up at the ceiling, mentally preparing herself for what was to come. From the corner of her eye, she saw Kara pacing back and forth though the hold, talking to herself. It had always been like this; Rayner was always nervous before a fight and couldn't help but check that everything was in order with his equipment over and over again, Kara would do something physical to psyche herself up and bury the fear she had, and Helana would zone out and become focused in on herself, calming her mind so that she could more clearly think and lead.

And then there was Cayde. She looked up at the cockpit, seeing him sitting in the pilot's seat, nodding his head to some electronic music playing throughout the ship, as casually as if he were going to pick up some new clothes. Helana didn't know how he did it, always calm and cool and cracking jokes. Every time they had fought together, he had always been the comedian, always the joker. She supposed it was probably just his way of dealing with all the things that he had to go through, but it also helped anyone who was in his general vicinity. He was a walking, talking morale boost. So, that raised the question, why was he here, with them, when he was needed elsewhere?

"Rayner, keep Kara from breaking anything." Helana said seriously, rising to her feet and walking towards the cockpit. "I need to have a talk with our captain."

"I'll watch her." Rayner replied distantly, more concerned with his rifle.

As she walked up the stairs to where Cayde was seated, she saw his Ghost, Spades, appear out of the console of the ship, flying towards her.

"Hey, hey, hey Helana!" The ghost replied in its female voice, its orange prickled shell dull in the ship's dim lighting. "Hows my favorite hunter doing?"

"I resent that!" Cayde said from in front of them, making Helana roll her eyes.

"I'm fine Spades, gotta talk with Cayde. Feel free to listen."

"Like you have a choice." Spades replied, with what must have been an artificial smirk as it floated back to where its companion sat. Helana followed easily, taking a seat in the copilot's chair next to her old friend. She didn't immediately talk, instead opting to look out the window at the destroyed blue ball beneath them. From that high in the stratosphere, everything looked so small, with an almost beautiful quality to it. The fluffy white clouds moving slowly over the earth hid the desolation below them.

"Ya know, I never get tired of being up here. Seeing this." She said distantly, watching the Earth beneath her. "Must have been terrifying for Grant, waking up in that."

"Yeah. Definitely made his worst day ever list, I'd think." Cayde replied easily, keeping his gaze ahead, only letting it snap to the gages and radar. She watched him and frowned. Something was off. Though the other two wouldn't have noticed it, she had been around the man long enough to see it. He was tense. The way he moved, the way his eyes darted around, only to stare intensely straight ahead. He was off. He noticed her staring at him, and asked shortly, "So, whadda ya want?"

"Cayde, what's the matter with you?" She asked quietly, ensuring Rayner and Kara didn't hear. "Don't bother coming up with an excuse, or I swear I will snap your bow in half."

"Not the bow! Ladies love the bow." He replied in mock horror, giving Helana a sideways glance. When he saw that she was serious, he relented, and said quietly, without humor, "It's Grant."

"Why?" Helana asked quickly, confused. Granted, Cayde was a kind man, but he would never let something like this throw him off his game. He was too much of a professional. "Cayde, we'll get him. Why is he so important to you though?"

"Because of the way he looked at me."

"What?" Helana's confusion was growing. This was definitely not normal.

"When he showed up in the Vanguard HQ with you, he looked at me, and I could see something in his face, I just couldn't piece it together." Any trace of humor was gone from Cayde's voice, replaced instead by strong conviction, something Helana rarely saw with him. "It was recognition, Hel. He knew me."

"You're sure?" Things were falling into place now. Grant's distrust of exos, and of Cayde in particular.

"As sure as I've ever been." He replied quietly, letting it soak in before saying, "He knew me, that means he knows who I am. Who my entire race is. He could have the answers that we've been looking centuries for. And right now, he's AWOL."

"Cayde, we'll find him." Helana placed a hand on his shoulder, squeezing slightly. She now understood the weight that was on the man in front of her. The weight of his entire race, and the largest question that it had ever asked.

"I know we will, Hel." Cayde replied, bringing a hand up to squeeze hers. "I just worry about what comes after."

"Yeah. Me too." She said quietly.

…..

Grant impacted the steel wall with such force that he tore through it, landing in the next room. While his armor and shield protected him somewhat, the impact to his head nearly knocked him unconscious. His rifle was gone, ripped apart by the monster when Grant had tried to close the distance, hoping to avoid its plasma cannon. He hadn't counted on Riksis being as fast as he was, and when he was suddenly smacked to the side, he got to his feet only to see the monster crush the gun in one fist as easily as an apple.

As he got to his knees, a massive hand reached through the hole, grabbing his legs and ripping him back through the wall. As he rose through the air, his brain refocusing, he came face to face with Riksis, his glowing orange eyes shocking the man fully back to reality. Grant, in a move of desperation, punched the beast in the face, his electrically charged fist smashing into its helmet.

He could hear it laughing as it threw him in the air, sending him crashing through the metal roof, the sound of screaming metal and cracking ribs echoing in his ears. His shield, already weakened by the last impact, broke as soon as he hit the metal, and he took the brunt of the force through his armor. He landed on top of the roof with a crash that forced any remaining air out of his lungs in a pained gasp.

Desperately he tried to breathe, working his way up to his feet, knowing he had to move. As he started to run, a plasma blast erupted where he had landed, leaving a massive hole and sizzling steel in its place. Desperately he tried to make a plan as he picked up speed, coming up empty again and again.

He was going to die.

Suddenly, a blue blast appeared in front of him. He couldn't react in time. Couldn't stop himself. He was barely able to let out a scream before he plunged through the hole. As he fell, he saw Riksis, and more importantly Riksis's plasma cannon, aimed directly where he was going to impact.

"Grenade, now!" He heard his ghost yell into his helmet, causing him to quickly form and throw a grenade at the Fallen Archon Priest. Riksis easily sidestepped the grenade, but the short distraction allowed Grant the moments necessary to land and move, stumbling away behind a pillar for cover.

"15, I don't know what to do here." He breathed heavily into his microphone, exhaustion filling him. He could feel the vibrations through the ground as Riksis closed the distance, and wasn't quite sure if he could move in time to escape the monster when he needed to.

"Grant, we need to escape." He heard 15 say quickly, his metallic voice filled with terror. "The only way out is through the doors on your right. Move!"

As soon as he saw the icon pop up, he was off. He stumbled slightly, but self preservation spurred him on through the pain and exhaustion. The doors were on the complete opposite side of the room, and he bolted. He felt the burning in his lungs, the sand paper in his throat, the gravel beneath his feet. But he knew he would make it. He knew he could reach the door.

And when the plasma blast struck the ground beside him, sending him careening through the air and smashing into a wall, he knew it was over.

He struggled to his hands and knees, trying to breathe. This was where he would die. As he let his mind drift, preparing for whatever was going to happen, he let himself think of his family for the first time since he had awoken. He hoped he would see them again, especially Emma.

Even then, despite the circumstances, the thought of the little girl brought a smile to his lips. His sister had been the light of his life for so long, he couldn't help it. The thought that maybe he could see her again filled him with a sense of comfortable numbness. He was ready.

However, when he opened his eyes to look Riksis in the face as he delivered the final blow, he saw it. On the edge of the wall next to him, partially buried, he could see the eye socket of a skull. Curiously, he dug his fingers into the sand and pulled it out, revealing a small, child like upper skull. He looked at it in a slight wonder, before something clicked in his head. Something that he had been told, but hadn't really understood.

These aliens killed his world.

Killed his family.

Killed him.

Killed his sister.

He felt it start crawling through his body, like snakes in his veins. Felt his mind cloud over with it, his vision going dark for a brief moment as he felt something course through him, something akin to a prisoner in an electric chair. He didn't see the shadow looming over him, nor that Riksis was preparing to stomp him out of existence. In that moment, it didn't matter to him. Because, in that moment, all the numbness that he had felt since he had awoken, all the repressed and buried emotion, all the fear and anger, became one single feeling: An unyielding, all consuming rage. He had failed to protect his sister. Failed to protect his family. He hadn't even gotten the chance to fight, and now he was going to die in some god forsaken hangar.

In futile anger, he punched the ground. The resulting shockwave surprised him, and sent Riksis stumbling back. Just as he registered that he was the cause of the massive wave of energy, he saw Riksis raising his cannon again.

He was surprised when he was able to get up effortlessly and leap away from the incoming plasma, diving behind the pillar for cover as Riksis actually retreated away from him. Looking at himself, he was shocked to see he was exuding a bright blue aura, with electricity arcing across his arms and legs.

"Ghost, what's happening to me?" As he asked, he could feel the energy building up inside him, causing his muscles to spasm painfully.

"Grant, you have to listen to me." The Ghost replied urgently, sounding extremely worried. "You're generating too much light in your body. Your anger must have triggered it. If you don't find a way to get rid of it, it's going to kill you."

"Oh how philosophical. How do I get rid of it?" He asked through gritted teeth, watching the blue light grow slightly in intensity and feeling the pain worsen.

"Well, Striker Titans use the energy for a massive attack where they leap into the air and smash the ground, destroying everything in the vicinity."

"Oh I can do that." Grant replied, letting the anger flow as he got to his feet, the pain simply adding to it..

"You're going to need to hit him directly if you want to kill him."

"I wouldn't have it any other way. How long do I have?" Peering out from behind the pillar and trying to locate the massive alien.

"Two minutes."

The Ghost had barely finished speaking when Grant sprinted out of cover, narrowly avoiding a massive ball of plasma. He knew his only chance was to keep moving non-stop, and try to predict when the monster was going to shoot. He didn't notice how much faster he was, nor how he was completely revitalized. He was solely focused on getting to Riksis as quickly as possible.

He began bobbing and weaving across the floor, narrowly dodging the blasts from Riksis. Quickly Riksis started focusing fire in front of him, causing Grant to change course non-stop, dodging and weaving between orbs of plasma. Many of the blasts impacted close enough to make him stumble, feeling the heat from them through his shields.

Seeing an opportunity, he broke left before leaping into the air, pivoting so that he would land feet first on the wall. As soon as he touched, he pushed off with the force of a cannon, aiming straight for Riksis's head.

The alien, however, knew what Grant was, knew the danger he posed, and ducked out of the way just in time to avoid his fist, causing Grant to tuck and roll into the ground, saving the energy. Rolling to a knee, Grant found himself face to barrel with Riksis's blaster and immediately dove out of the way, narrowly avoiding the blast.

As soon as he landed, he was up and moving, sprinting around Riksis, desperately trying to get into his blind spot, while Riksis, continuously kept just out of reach while bringing his cannon to bear.

Suddenly, Grant faltered. A misstep, a rolled ankle, a slip. Whatever it was, it slowed him down just enough for Riksis to swing his cannon around in front of him. Bellowing with satisfaction, the massive alien pulled the trigger, filling his vision with a massive blue orb of light. As soon as it cleared, Riksis saw a crater where the guardian once stood. He never saw Grant dive between his legs, nor did he feel the tremor in the ground when the guardian lept into the air. It was the man's screaming that ultimately caused him to turn around, only to see Grant barrelling down on him from above, fist glowing with electricity and rage.

…..

"Ship's clear." Rayner yelled, carefully climbing out of the destroyed ship formerly belonging to Val. "Pretty obvious that he was in here though. It's been ransacked and one of Val's sets of armor is missing."

"That son of a bitch." Kara hissed, slamming the hatch shut behind Rayner.

"Well, that's a little harsh." Cayde replied jokingly from his position on top of the ship, overlooking the area around them. "I mean, guy was in light mail."

"He's a grave robber."

"Not now Kara. He's our top priority, remember that." Helana said briskly, chastising the hotheaded hunter, though part of her did feel the same. Though she understood his reasons, it still sat wrong with her.

"Oh don't worry. He is." Kara replied venomously. "The sooner we find him the sooner we find Riksis."

"Well aren't you a little ball of malice?" Cayde deadpanned as he got down from the top of the ship, facing the squad. "We need to find something that tells us where he went. Spread out, have your ghosts look for tracks. Like the firecracker said, we find Grant, we find Riksis."

As soon as the last syllable left his mouth, a massive explosion sounded from a hangar a short distance north of them.

"Alternatively, we can go to the perfectly timed explosion." Cayde deadpanned before setting off at a sprint, the others close behind.

The building wasn't hard to spot, due to the billowing smoke coming from the roof. Without hesitation they all started sprinting towards the building, noting that there were no Fallen in their path. Knowing that Riksis had likely lured Grant into a trap. Knowing that Grant was about to die.

Which was why, when they burst into the room, they were shocked to see Grant on his knees, fist smoking.

Beside him was the smoking corpse of Riksis, a bloody crater where his head and torso had been.

"No way." Rayner said in awe, the first to speak as he looked at the devastation of the battle throughout the room, keeping safely back with the rest of the squad. "This shouldn't have been possible."

"Hel, look." Cayde said quietly, pointing to Grant. Upon looking closer examination, she saw that the man was holding a small, child-like skull in his hands.

"Grant…" She whispered quietly, shocked and saddened. She could only imagine what his face looked like beneath the helmet he wore. She could guess what it was, though. It was one of loss, of confusion, and of anger. Just like she had seen many guardians go through. Slowly, she approached the Titan, ready to back off if he seemed hostile. However, he didn't move an inch. As she got closer, she could hear the still sizzling flesh of Riksis, and quietly wondered how he was able to kill the monster alien.

Once she finally reached him, she moved to his front and got down on her knees in front of him. At first, neither of them spoke, Helana not knowing how to start and Grant barely registering her presence. She took everything in: the sagged shoulders, the slump in his back, the unwavering gaze into the small skull in his hands. Eventually though, Helana decided to ask the basic thing.

"Are you ok?" As soon as it left her mouth, she kicked herself. Of course he wasn't ok. When he didn't visibly react, she came up with an alternate idea. Quickly she took her helmet off and placed it on the ground, before saying slowly, "Grant, I'm going to take your helmet so we can talk face to face, ok?"

When he didn't respond, she took it for a yes, and slowly, carefully, put her hands on the side of his head, her fingers searching for the release. As she looked into the helmet, its blue on grey colors and familiar faceplate brought back memories of the man it had belonged to previously. Before she could dwell on it for too long, her fingers finally brushed the release. Cautiously she opened the helmet, taking it off and setting it on the ground. When she looked back to his face to try and talk to him, she was immediately taken aback.

She was expecting his face to be a twist of emotions on his face. Anger, sadness, rage. The things she would normally expect. Instead, she looked at a face that was simply plain. No expression, no hint of emotion, nothing.

"Grant…" She whispered, not knowing what to do.

"If I join the Vanguard…" He said quietly, though not in a whisper. He still looked down at the skull, searching it intensely for something only he could see. "Do I fight?"

"Um, yes." She replied quietly, glancing at Cayde with a confused look. "I mean, it's what we do."

He swallowed when she said this, obviously working something over in his mind. After what felt like an eternity, he nodded to himself, answering some unsaid question.

"Alright." He said quietly, looking into Helana's face. As blank as his face was, his eyes were cold. His pupils were pin pricks and they practically radiated intensity. "I'll go with you. I'll take any tests you want. But I'm going to kill as many of these monsters as I can. If you want to help me, fine. But I will never stop."

He let his words settle for a moment, before reaching down and grabbing his helmet before he rose to his feet. Looking down at the woman before him, he offered his hand. "You came for me. Thank you."

After a pause, she took his hand and let him help her to her feet. "Anytime."

He didn't reply as he turned away from the guardian and started walking to the entrance. However, he stopped beside Cayde, looking into the exo's face, thinking.

"She says you can be trusted." He said quietly, glancing back at Helana before returning his gaze to the exo. "So, I will. But remember this:"

With the hand still holding the skull, he placed a finger on the center of Cayde's chest. "Cayde 4."

He moved his hand up, the same finger pointing at Cayde's right eye. "Cayde 5."

He didn't wait for a reply as he trudged out of the hangar, the smoking corpse of Riksis still sizzled on the ground and the child's skull was clutched in his hand.

 **Well guys, welcome to the story. I figured I'd get the first few chapters done to see if there was any interest in me continuing. Obviously i have taken some liberties with the story, but i feel like it was open enough that it allowed me to do so. Just like every other person on this site, I'd really appreciate it if you left me a review to tell me what you thought, offer ideas (Of course you get credit) or even just to chat. I'm really excited to keep writing this, but I didn't do it alone. I'd like to thank Leider Hosen, Fishslayer, and Mr. Selfish, all of whom contributed greatly, from grammar to ideas. They are all amazing writers, almost certainly better than I am, and you really should check them out, especially if you are into Dark Souls. But, with that said, I'm finished for now. Let me hear what you think and I'll see you guys later.**

 **Oh, and by the way, my work is always littered with references. See if you can't find some.**


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